Marked by Hope: A Critical Review of The Tattooist of Auschwitz

It has become common knowledge that Jews were forcibly tattooed when they had to enter concentration camps during the Holocaust, but there is very little known about the tattooists themselves. Were they Nazis? Fellow prisoners? Were they proud of their work or did they dread playing a role in torturing their fellow man? The Tattooist of Auschwitz is a novel written by Heather Morris, published in 2017. The book tells the story of Slovakian Jew, Lale Sokolov, who was imprisoned in Auschwitz in 1942. Because of his ability to speak multiple languages, Sokolov became the “Tatowierer”, the prisoner in charge of tattooing identification numbers on his fellow prisoners.

While performing his job as the Tatowierer, Sokolov met Gita Furman when he gave her her number, 34902. Within the first moments of their encounter, Sokolov vowed that he would find a way to survive, and he would marry this girl. The novel follows Sokolov’s journey of using his privileged position as the Tatowierer to help bring food and resources to the other prisoners, and the trials and tribulations that came with that risk. Through multiple separations and reunions, Sokolov and Gita find their way back to each other after the war and were together until Gita’s death in 2003. 

The gates of Auschwitz, Poland, 1965. The sign above them is 'Arbeit Macht Frei', which translates to ‘Work Makes You Free'.

Originally written as a screenplay, Morris spent years interviewing Sokolov before his death in 2006. The interviewing process took place in Melbourne, Australia, where Sokolov and his beloved Gita Furman moved when the war was over to start a new life and raise their son, Gary. 

Throughout her novel, Morris brings the reader into the mind of Lale Sokolov. We get to feel his fear, relish in his sneaky accomplishments, and grieve his losses. Her interview process with Sokolov was so in depth and drawn out that Morris was able to form a whole world for the reader based within Sokolov’s mind. The depiction of Sokolov’s thoughtfulness and attention to detail at every turn continuously sucks the reader in from the moment he gets on the train for Auschwitz. 

Quickly after arriving, the men all line up to be marked with their identification numbers with the first chapter of the novel. “The tattooing has taken only seconds, but Lale’s shock makes time stand still.” Wrote Morris. “He grasps his arm, staring at the number. How can someone do this to another human being? He wonders if for the rest of his life, be it short or long, he will be defined by this moment, this irregular number: 32407.” 

Despite the initial fear that courses through Sokolov that first day at Auschwitz, hope is a continuous theme throughout the novel, constantly bringing the reader back to the idea that hope is what keeps Sokolov alive. He even says this to Gita during one of their brief weekly reunions, assuring her that hope will keep them alive and she must not forfeit her spirit. The theme of hope is woven through the entire novel, coming to a satisfying full circle moment when Sokolov and Gita finally reunite for good after the war ends and he says he never gave up hope that he would find her. 

Morris also uses many of the touching moments to bring the reader's attention back to how important each life is. Her attention to detail for Sokolov’s feelings of guilt and sorrow as he tattooed each wrist is moving. It's clear that no matter how much ink passes through his needle, the pain of permanently altering another prisoner never fades. Regardless of every devastating and demeaning moment Sokolov faced, he never lost his humanity, and this is so vivid in every scene Morris describes. 

Chapter six is made up mostly of an elongated scene of Sokolov tattooing a new set of prisoners. He continuously repeats to himself what the last Tatowierer taught him on his first day: “‘Save one, save the world,’ Lale says quietly, more to himself than the others.” There is a Jewish saying, “kol adam olam um lo'o” which means “every person is an entire universe”. This value is intrinsically taught throughout Jewish communities starting at a very young age. Each life holds immense value, and therefore should be treated as its own universe entirely.

Sokolov was taught that every person he saved was the equivalent of saving an entire universe, and this was one of the driving forces, along with hope and determination, that kept him going. His drive to help as many other people as he could help keep him alive, and this is continuously depicted by Morris throughout the entire novel. Although some of her writing may be lacking in scenery detail, the reader is never at a loss for what Sokolov was thinking we’re feeling at any given moment.

Despite being a beloved and award winning novel worldwide, including the Winner of the Small Publishers’Adult Book of the Year in Australia, The Tattooist of Auschwitz has also faced criticisms for its occasional historical inaccuracy. 

An article published in The New York Times discussed some disparities in historical facts used throughout the novel. For instance, a literary blogger from New Zealand, Lisa Hill, noted how the story about penicillin in the book was an “obscene distortion of reality” because penicillin was not available to the public until 1945. 

“Even if Lale had known about the existence of penicillin, the idea that there would have been any for Jewish use in the Auschwitz hospital is fanciful.” Said Hill. 

Despite some minor historical inaccuracies, a more worthwhile conversation may be how trauma affects memory. It's important to understand that Sokolov was in his early 20s when he experienced Auschwitz, and his interviews for this novel didn't take place until his late 80s, after Gita’s death. 

Lale Sokolov with his son, Gary, born in 1961.

Research has shown it is extremely common for those who have experienced long periods of trauma to experience distorted memories or memory loss during the period of trauma. So, rather than dissecting every detail that Sokolov may have slightly altered during his interviews, it may be more worthwhile to appreciate the amount of sheer detail the book was able to provide the public and also recognize that over 60 years had gone by at this point. So, whether he requested penicillin or some other form of medicine for Gita really wasn’t the point of the story, but rather the fact that he had the courage to relive his harrowing story and time and time again found ways to save those he loved. 

Novels such as these aid in keeping the memory of the Holocaust alive. So many today still attempt to disprove the relevance of the Holocaust, or the event in its entirety. Not only do these personal stories give the reader a glimpse into the world these survivors suffered through, but they remind us of the power of hope when it comes to survival. 

Sokolov marked thousands with their numbers, but he himself was marked by hope the day he met Gita, and this is what kept him alive.

Morris’s skilled retelling of Sokolov’s story, along with her vivid use of sensory imagery and memory gives the reader as close to Sokolov’s experience as one can get through words.